


The Perfect Cappuccino

by Rachael Sabotini (wickedwords)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Community: sga_flashfic, Harlequin, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-28
Updated: 2005-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 21:39:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4893259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedwords/pseuds/Rachael%20Sabotini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every coffee drinker should fall in love with their barista.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perfect Cappuccino

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for sga_flashfic's "harlequin" challenge. Thanks to both sherrold and zoe rayne for the beta, and to Anna for kick-starting my brain.

It is the duty of every coffee drinker to fall in love with their barista at least once. Rodney had fallen in love with his on at least six or eight occasions, though nothing ever came of it. Usually he just spent time staring at them and finding out later that they called him creepy.

The current object of his affections was a man with black hair and green eyes that went really well with the green apron and black shirt he always wore — and it didn’t hurt that he knew how to make the best cappuccino in town. 

The funny thing was, Rodney hadn't noticed him at first. He had to have been coming here for weeks before he noticed the guy making his coffee. Almost every morning — morning being a relative term in the software industry — he swung through the Pegasus Coffee Company on his way to work, waiting in line to grumble out his order and try to smile at the cashier, all the while his mind roaring "give me coffee, damn it!" 

He wasn't his best in the morning, even when 'morning' meant 11:00 am. It was also why he tended to over-tip. 

Anyway, one day about three weeks before the dog and pony show, Rodney had been getting nervous. No matter how many times Peter and Radek reassured him that the code and the hardware would be ready, Rodney couldn't trust it unless he saw to it himself. So it was no surprise that he didn't think much about the guy actually brewing the espresso and pouring it into the take-away cups; Rodney's mind was too full of thoughts about the job and the need for caffeine. 

That particular morning’s code review hadn’t gone well, and Radek ended up kicking him out of his own office. "Go for a walk, Rodney. You are making us all insane." 

The barista — John by his nametag — set his second cappuccino down in front of him: a large white clay coffee cup filled to the brim with dry white foam, with a heart-shaped dot in the center, from the espresso added at the end. It reminded Rodney of skiing and new-fallen snow, erasing his most recent thoughts about government auditors. Steam and the rich scent of dark French roast rose up from the top of it, so Rodney wrapped his hands around it, enjoying the warmth. 

Some 1940s-era jazz swung up on the music system, and Rodney closed his eyes for a moment, settling back into the deeply comfy couch. Radek was right. He really had needed to get out. 

"Does that work for you?" There was indulgent laughter in John's voice, and Rodney found it very encouraging. 

"Hhm?" He opened his eyes, and reverently sipped the sweet foam and dark espresso perfection in a cup. Heaven. 

John nodded at the cup. "Some people don't like the espresso added at the end. They prefer a solid foam cap." 

"No, this is great." Rodney said, sitting up carefully. "Thanks." 

John ducked his head and gave a small smile. "We aim to please." 

And wow, pleasing. Rodney's brain had all sorts of thoughts about how John could please him, and coffee was only a part of it. 

* * *

Rodney took to stopping by in the afternoons from then on, timing it so that he usually hit the spot right before John's scheduled break. At first, John just sat in a corner, reading and sipping his coffee and pastry until it was time to go back, but Rodney didn't mind. It was probably better this way; he'd never been good at small talk. 

He'd just watch John out of the corner of his eye, watch his hands skimming over the pages as he read, watch him sip his coffee. He felt vaguely stalker-ish, until the day that John sat down right next to him to read "The World's Best SF," which had obviously been checked out from the local library and was maybe a decade old. 

"You looked like you were getting a crick in your neck," John said brightly as he sat down. "John Sheppard." He stuck out his hand, and Rodney clasped it warmly. 

"Dr. Rodney McKay." 

After that, it was just a caffeine-fueled hop and a skip to talking about their favorite books, from Asimov and Heinlein to Greg Bear and Connie Willis. For the most part, John's choices were in line with Rodney's own, but there were a few books that John liked that ran counter to the laws of physics, a fact that Rodney explained in great detail while John laughed. 

Non-physicists could be so stupid. 

"Neal Stephenson is doing a reading down at Third Place Books next week, if you're interested," Rodney said eagerly. 

John shook his head. "I can't. I'm working the evening shift next week. It's my turn to close." 

He sounded so disappointed that Rodney got him an autographed book anyway, and brought it over when the lecture was done. John lit up when Rodney handed it to him, reverently folding back the cover of the book to look at it, his smile so wide that Rodney could see his teeth. 

* * *

After the book incident, Rodney marked his schedule as "out-of-office" every day from 2-3. He left his cell phone and his laptop at the office, but he kept his Blackberry on him, in case he needed to send himself a reminder email when inspiration struck. Radek and Peter didn't bother to look for him during that time, and the rest of the team took to scheduling code reviews and status meetings after 3:00 pm, when Rodney was easier to be around. 

* * *

Sprawled out on the couch in front of the fake fire, John looked incredibly appealing. He'd taken off his apron for his break, and his shirt seemed to be unbuttoned further than usual; Rodney caught a glimpse of John's chest hair as he leaned forward to pick up his coffee. 

Rodney couldn't believe how lucky he was. Apparently, John liked to laugh and he found Rodney's blissful reactions to coffee and food deeply amusing. He'd taken to setting aside whatever they were sampling that day, just so he could watch Rodney eat. "Free food" was, in fact, one of the many things that Rodney liked about him. 

John seemed a little nervous today, but Rodney had no clue what was up and it really didn't matter. Sitting close enough to John that their thighs touched was pretty much his definition of heaven at the moment; his helicopter-pilot-turned-grad-student-barista populated many of Rodney's late-night fantasies, along with a few daytime ones. He had this one where John came to deliver coffee for a meeting, and stayed to blow Rodney while kneeling under Rodney's desk that just — 

"Rodney?" 

"Hmmm?" 

"You're drooling." 

"Oh, sorry." He wiped his hand across his face. "The, uh, chocolate apricot bar is really good." 

"Thanks. Hey listen," John looked at him, then his eyes quickly darted away. He set his coffee down, still not looking at Rodney. "I, uh, have to do inventory in the back room." 

Rodney's hands started sweating and he lifted his chin, looking at John's profile. That couldn't mean what he thought it did, could it? 

Drawing figure eights on the table top, John finally met Rodney's gaze. "You want to come along?" 

Rodney had no idea how he got to his feet so fast. "Yes." He cleared his throat, so his voice dropped to a more normal octave. "Yes, I'd love to help you with the inventory." 

"Cool." John smiled, and Rodney wanted to kiss him right there. "Millie said she'd watch the front counter for the next half hour, so we have some time." 

* * *

John's mouth tasted like estate-grown Costa Rican coffee, rich and warm, with a bold flavor. It was the coffee of the day, and Rodney didn't think he'd ever tasted anything better. John slid his tongue into Rodney's mouth, shoving him back against the wall by where the aprons were hung; Rodney grabbed onto the closest one for dear life, afraid that his legs were going to give out given how desperately John was pressing against him. 

"Rodney...." John's voice was a deep growl that made Rodney's toes curl. "You've been making me crazy these last few weeks. God, I never thought this was going to happen. You were so...and I just...I want to blow you." 

Oh, now that was a good thought. Rodney tucked his head against John's neck, nipping at his skin; John smelled like coffee, too, like rich dark roast and freshly steamed milk, and the vaguest hint of vanilla. It was sordid and stupid to be making out in the back room, surrounded by foil bags of coffee beans and take-away cups, but that really didn't matter. All that mattered was the feel of John under his hands, how he pressed and molded hi mself into Rodney, how he gasped when Rodney got his shirt off and stroked his nipples. 

Rodney dropped to his knees, and rubbed his face over John's groin, feeling the long, thick hardness there. Now his mouth really was watering. He lowered the zipper on John's pants, and nudged his head back appreciatively as John threaded his fingers through Rodney's hair. He reached in and pulled out John's cock, rubbing his fingers over the head. 

A quiet moan escaped John's lips; Millie — whoever she was — was outside minding the store, and John obviously realized it would be good to keep it quiet. Rodney admired John's control as he flicked the head of John's cock with his tongue, before sliding his lips down around it. 

The aprons hanging on a peg rack cushioned John's head as he arched back hard against the wall. Rodney fumbled with his pants as he sucked John, getting one of his hands around his cock, while the other hand gripped at John's hip to keep him stable. He had to sit up on his knees a bit to get the angle right; John curled around him, holding onto Rodney's shoulders, making them into a solid triangle. "Fuck, yeah," he whimpered as Rodney swirled his tongue around the head of John's cock. "Oh, fuck, yeah." 

They were too turned on for it to last long, with John even more turned on than Rodney. In what felt like seconds, Rodney felt John tense the hands around his shoulders even tighter, and then as he sucked, he could feel John’s cock swell slightly in his mouth. Intense! He swallowed John’s slightly bitter liquid, let John's cock slip from his mouth, licked his own palm, and then stroked hi mself fast, sliding his free hand down into his pants to cup his balls. Tucking hi mself together, John knelt down on the floor next to him, and gave Rodney a deep, full kiss. "God, you're hot," he whispered into Rodney's ear. He ran his stubbled cheek against Rodney's face. "I really want to fuck you." 

That was pretty much all it took as far as Rodney was concerned; he moaned and came as John kissed him, swallowing the noise. John reached up, grabbed a clean towel, and wiped Rodney off, kissing and touching him constantly. 

"Wow." Rodney grinned at him, knowing he had to look slightly stupid and not really caring. 

"Wow, indeed." John grinned back, then helped Rodney stand up. "I, uh, have to get back to work." He tossed the used towel in with the other dirty laundry. "Am I gonna see you again?" 

Sometimes John was really stupid. "How's tonight sound?" 

John ran his hand over Rodney's jawline and let his fingers drift down Rodney's throat. "I think I'd like that," he said quietly. "I'm through at 7, and I don't have to close." 

"You up for a late dinner then?" Rodney captured John's hand and threaded their fingers together. "I keep weird hours at times." 

John laughed a little, his eyes hopeful. "Right now, I'm thinking about an early breakfast." 

Early breakfast. Rodney was quite willing to do that. While John headed back out to the front counter where Millie quietly teased him, Rodney used his Blackberry to send a message to Radek that he wasn't coming in for the next couple of days, and he'd check email at home. 

That is, if John let him. 

* * *

When Rodney woke up the next morning, John was gone, but there was a cup of fresh-made cappuccino waiting for him on the nightstand next to his computer. 

Rodney knew it was love.


End file.
